What To Do
by DorkyColaGeek730
Summary: If you can think of any torture that's as bad as being in unrequited love with your best friend, please, let me know. I'll take -anything- else over this hell. [Blush one-shot]


Disclaimer I own nothing and no one. If I did own any of those boys, do you really think I'd be sitting here _writing _about them? Psh. Oh, and implied slash. That, too.

A/N: This one goes out to Laura (aka Braids21 ... GO READ HER STUFF NOW!) because I promised her a Blush fic for her birthday, which I missed, and then I forgot to deliver the goods. Haha, I suck. Anyway, I don't usually pair these two, but they seemed perfect for the situation, so BAM! Here they are. Told from Mush's POV. Enjoy!

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What To Do

If you can think of any torture that's as bad as being in unrequited love with your best friend, please, let me know. I'll take _anything_ else over this hell.

My cell phone blares a tinny version of "The William Tell Overture" (because I'm too cheap to spend three dollars on a "Hollaback Girl" ringtone or anything of the sort) and with a flick of my wrist it's open and pressed to my ear. I know who it is without checking the number.

"Hey, Kid,"

"MUSHIE!"

Score another one for me and my woman's (gay man's?) intuition. Of course it was Alex, my dream boy, knight in shining armor, ride-off-into-the-sunset-like-in-a-bad-romance-flick best friend. Why did I call him Kid, then? Because it's short for his nickname, Kid Blink. Our group of friends all had bizarre nicknames for each other, and he got stuck with that one because he had a nervous twitch as a child. A few years later when he lost his left eye to cancer and started wearing the patch, the name became a way for him to cope with his loss. As for me being called Mush? It's a long and embarrassing story. Let's just say it involved mashed potatoes, show tunes, and copious amounts of alcohol.

God, sometimes I hate my friends.

Kid asks me about my day, and I respond dully, knowing it's not the reason for his call. When I ask about his in return, he launches into a huge song and dance about how crappy his date was last night. I sigh and listen - it's my job as his best friend and fellow homo - but I can't help but feel absolutely miserable. I _loathe_ hearing Kid talk about his escapades. Listening to him go on about this boy and that boy and blah blah blah ... positively depressing. The worst part, though? Knowing that for once, for one single, solitary night, _I_ was one of those boys.

Yeah. We tried to date. Once.

It all came out (pardon the pun) after he bugged me for hours about being so down and mopey. He poked and prodded and nudged and whined for me to tell him what was wrong. After three hours of that, I wanted to scream at him that it was all his fault and would he just shut the hell up about it, but instead ended up meekly confessing that I really liked this guy who totally wasn't into me but led me on regardless. It took another hour of prodding for him to realize exactly who I was referring to.

And for the record, he _did_ lead me on. He constantly flirted with me and told me how awesome I was and how much he enjoyed spending time with me, among other things. And I wasn't the only one who noticed.

Anyway, I spill all this info and what does the jerk do? Tells me that he's been feeling the same way. _The same way_. I nearly died. So we go on this date, right? We have a great time, everything's all honky-dory, and then two days later, he drops this bomb on me that it feels too _awkward. Awkward_ is what he said. And then --

"Mush? Mushie? _... Marc!_ Jesus, are you all right?"

His sweet, sweet voice saying my real name brings me back to reality. I notice that I'm breathing as though I just ran a few miles in the short time we've been on the phone, my breaths coming in short, ragged bursts and my chest heaving a little. I let myself get worked up again, remembering the whole thing, but no more. I told myself that I was over it and that I wouldn't let him or the past upset me anymore and I won't.

"Uh, yeah. Stubbed my toe." I make up lamely.

"Ouch," he chuckles. I frown.

"Yeah. Hurts like hell,"

_Just like loving you._

... Shit. So much for not letting things upset me.

Kid clears his throat and changes the subject, sounding ... strange. "Hey, listen, Mush. I got a question for you."

"Yeah, Kid?" I hear him sigh on the other end of the line.

"I've been doing some thinking lately, and uh ... Well, what do you say we try seeing each other again?"

... I think I've stopped breathing all together. My mind doesn't seem to want to function either, outside the continuous stream of _Yes yes yes yes please oh God yes_ running through it.

However, all I hear myself ask is, "We what?"

"We try seeing each other again. You know, we date? Go to movies, hold hands, make out? Ring a bell, Mush?"

"Yeah, it rings a bell,"

"So what do you say?"

I very, _very_ nearly agree, but something holds me back. A little voice of reason in my head, perhaps, or the wise words of my mother ... whatever it is, I realize with surprise that I am reluctant to give things another shot with Alex. Extremely reluctant, even. I suppose now my decision to try to remain unhurt is kicking in - I've already begun to close myself off to him. A loud response from the phone tells me that I've answered him without even knowing.

"What do you mean 'you don't think so?'" he demands, sounding more than a little surprised and just a bit hurt (I can't help but feel a twinge of guilty pleasure that he's finally getting a taste of his own medicine). I struggle for a few minutes to find the right words for what I'm feeling before doing my best to articulate the best bold-faced lie I can muster. There is no way I can tell him the real reason why we couldn't date, not without making things weird or ending up hurt. Again. I begin with a sigh.

"Well, it's just that, you know ... I really liked you a lot and we tried it once to see how things would go, but you decided things were weird. And I was cool with that -"

_I cried for hours._

"- since neither of us wanted things to get weird, you know? We're best friends, I don't want to ruin that and I know you don't, either -"

_But in a way, you did ruin it, when you broke my heart._

"- And to be perfectly honest, who's to say that it won't end the same way as last time?"

It's difficult to judge Kid's reaction to this, because he stays quiet for a long time. I'm almost certain he either hung up or fell asleep on me (which he has been known to do in the past, and if that is the case, I will be very pissed off when he wakes up). However, a small noise - like the whimper of a puppy who just got whacked on the nose with a newspaper - told me he was still on the line and still awake.

"But Mush ... you and me ... we're good together. We're like two halves of the same person." The sad and pitiful way he answers makes me want to drop the phone, run the three blocks to his house, wrap him up in my arms, and tell him that I didn't mean any of it. And though I didn't mean much, except for maybe the last part (I would be terrified of him rejecting me again if we did try going out), I knew that I had to stick to my guns.

But it was so _hard_.

"Mushie, I can't think of anyone else who I'd want to be with. No one gets me like you do, and I know for a fact that I know you better than anyone else. I ... I really care about you, Marc. So come on -"

By this point I absolutely want to _die_. He continues with a bit more pep in his voice, probably to cover up his confession of caring about me. He never really was comfortable with that sort of thing.

"- let's be boyfriends."

I have no idea what to do.

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A/N:(Again, hehe) So, that's it. It's open-ended, you guys can decide for yourselves if the boys get together. I really wasn't feeling a definite ending for this fic, so I'm pretty much happy with how it turned out. Pretty much. Anyway, review! Or send me chocolate 


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